My Love Is the Worst Kind of Weapon
by patdxmcrxluv
Summary: ONE SHOT Arthur, sick of Alfred's incessant teasing, finally breaks and accidentally confesses his love to America. What will America say back to England? Will he love him back or just leave him in the dark? Warning: Mention of self-harm,boys kissing, and terrible humor! Please rate and review! Please? I have no life...


**A/N: If the character's turn out to be OCC, I'm so sorry ;^; This is my first story after all, so I apologize for any grammatical errors! BTW none of this belongs to me, Hetalia belongs to Hidekazu Feel free to leave reviews/critical reviews - Enjoy :D**

**My Love Is the Worst Kind of Weapon~**

Arthur Kirkland sighed as he heard his front door being slammed open so hard that he thought the whole house had literally shook.

"Hey Iggy! How ya been?" The extremely obnoxious American named Alfred F. Jones shouted. "Well I was doing fine drinking tea until you arrived, that's for bloody sure." Arthur gave a little _humph _sort of noise before moving over to the other side of the couch to make room for the cerulean-eyed man.

"Well that sounds boring," Alfred gave a loud snort, "You're lucky I arrived here just in time before you died of boredom!" America made his way to the couch only to get back up and head to the kitchen. "So you got any good food around here? Oh wait, you never have anything delectable at your place." The Brit rolled his eyes, actually hurt by the comment that his used-to-be colony made about his food. England was about to stand up and head for his room to avoid further insults when a warm hand suddenly clutched his arm.

"Hey, where are you going? Is it already time for the old man to go to bed?" Alfred smirked, feeling his stomach swell up in pride at the offensive sentence. _Will he ever learn that a joke can only go so far before a series of problems arise? _ The poor Britain had been dealing with these so-called 'jokes' for so long that he was a hair away from breaking. "Please just stop with all these comments Alfred, they aren't very funny."

"What are you talking about? My jokes are awesome!" America hadn't stopped to think that maybe his words might've hurt the poor English man; he just thought that Arthur would have a sense of humor despite 'him being old', as Alfred liked to put it. "Yeah, well, you should keep some things to yourself once in a while." Arthur mumbled under his breath as Alfred raided the Brit's pantry.

"Aha! I knew you might've at least had one good thing in here!" And with that Alfred grabbed the Maltesers and sat down on the plaid designed couch. "Hey Artie-" Arthur growled and interrupted the loud American, "Don't _ever_ call me that again unless you want your nads chopped off."

America looked as if he was seriously considering the threat, then he laughed obnoxiously and continued his previous sentence, "So _Arthur_," Alfred continued, making sure to put emphasis on the Brit's human name, "Do you actually watch TV or is it too much technology for your old-fashioned brain?"

Alfred was really getting on Arthur's nerves. First the insults on his cooking and now another age joke? Does Alfred really not get that he hates these jokes? Is it really hard to see the tears beginning to form in his eyes? Arthur forgot how many times he rushed to his room, tears blurring his sight, after Alfred, the man he'd had a crush on ever since he had become a national country and not just a colony, made fun of him in front of everyone. The United Kingdom had felt that he would never have a chance with America since the young man had never shown any sign of affection, only teasing the smaller of the two whenever he was around. But hey, a man can dream right?

"No you arse, I indeed do have channels on the telly, but I don't have any of your disgusting American football if that's what you're looking for." Arthur watched as Alfred's face contorted, getting ready to whine. "Geez, I knew you were boring but I didn't think you were boring enough to not have football. I mean, your version of football, which is called soccer at my place, is terrible! It only goes to show that a nation's sport expresses a country's personality." Alfred retorted.

Arthur's eyes swelled with tears threatening to spill, "Well you know what?" England screamed, "I couldn't give more than a harlot's worth what you think of my football! I get that you don't like me, but do you really have to make me feel bad? I wonder if you even know how it feels like to have a man that you love insult you every day, every hour. Yeah that's right! I love you! But I doubt you love me, what with all the offensive comments you make towards Just please, stop the comments… I don't need another reason to achieve another scar." Arthur said the last part of his rant quietly in between sobs. "But you know what? It doesn't really matter because no one will ever love me." And with that Arthur ran to his room, his safest haven.

Alfred just sat there on the couch with his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find words to say even though the smaller Brit had taken off to his room a while ago. It took a few moments before what Arthur said really dawned on him. He _loves_ me? But he's never shown signs. Wait… All those times he's given those damned scones to him and then hurriedly walked away. God, how could he have been so stupid? All these years Alfred's been trying too hard to find ways to express his love to the beautiful man that was Arthur, which led to him becoming too oblivious to the kind acts that the Brit had made towards the American. Alfred ran down each of the hallways of Arthur's rather large house.

Suddenly he heard sobbing. He stopped to knock on the door and whisper, "Arthur?" He tried jiggling the doorknob to get rid of the barrier between the two but to no avail. "C'mon Artie, let me in… Please?"

"Why? So you can tease me some more? No thanks!" Was the muffled reply, "England, please," America's voice cracked as he fought back tears, thinking that the wonderful British man would go back to his harmful habits. "Please Iggy, I'm sorry… I'm so very sorry." Alfred slid down the door, letting stream after stream of fresh salty tears flow down his face.

"Are you crying?" Arthur asked from behind the closed door, "Of course, I don't want to lose you." There was a sound that sounded like the door being unlocked and Alfred raced to his knees. As soon as the door opened he raced to his hopefully new lover and just held on as is his life depended on it. "I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you." America chanted into England's sweater vest. Arthur smiled sadly, rubbing soothing circles on Alfred's back, "I love you too, so much." They pulled away slightly so that they were at arm's length.

"England, I'm so sorry that I've made you feel that way, I swear that was never my intention-" America was interrupted by England, "I know you only meant it in the most blithest way possible but you need to learn that each joke has its limits."

"I know. Please, though, just believe me when I say I love you." Alfred took this time to look into Arthur's eyes. _Wow, has he always had beautiful bright green eyes? I can see specks of hazel and little hints of golden in there. _They leaned in closer and closer until they could feel each other's puffs of breath on their lips, "So are we officially together?" America chuckled softly, "If you want." England replied with a cherry blush tinting his cheeks. Their lips finally met, Arthur's soft plump lips met the other's slightly chapped ones. America winked, "Wouldn't want anyone sweeping you off your feet other than me right?" Arthur smacked Alfred over the head lightly, blushing yet again as he did so, "Who else would want me?" Alfred gasped slightly, "I know tons of people who would want to bang you! But none of them will get the chance to because you're already with the almighty hero!" Arthur was beyond red at this point, "Don't use such vulgar language and besides," He continued, twirling a hair from the nape of Alfred's neck, "My eyes are set solely on you. Even though you can get supremely obnoxious or how irritating you get at times-" _"_Hey!" "-You still managed to find a way to make me fall irresistibly, absolutely, blindly in love with you." Their lips met in a much more passionate, long-lasting kiss. They pulled away once breathing air became a problem for them.

"So you wanna go out on a date to, say, maybe the movies or an amusement park?" America asked with a sincere smile, "Maybe. I don't know about you but coffee right now sounds good. Maybe we can go to that neat coffee shop right around the block?" Arthur cheekily responded. "Okay just let me get my stuff!" Alfred raced to get his trademark bomber jacket and wallet while Arthur just grabbed a random jacket from his closet.

There they went, hand-in-hand, like they always belonged. As they walked away you could faintly hear Alfred asking with a wink, "So can I spend the night at yours?" Only to have Arthur blush and shove him lightly, "Don't push your luck boy."

**A/N: Was it terrible like I'd imagined it to be? ;-; Again, please rate and review what you thought of the story! Until next time! ****Arigatou~**


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